


we don't need no mistletoe, baby

by socknonny



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Christmas Party, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Party Games, Period-Typical Homophobia, Spin the Bottle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:07:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21927079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/socknonny/pseuds/socknonny
Summary: Operation Protect Will Byers From Assholes is a go. It's just kind of weird that the only person other than Steve who seems to be putting in any effort is Billy.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 13
Kudos: 276
Collections: Harringrove Holiday Exchange 2019





	we don't need no mistletoe, baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Klayr_de_Gall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klayr_de_Gall/gifts).



> Happy holidays, Klayr! This is an extra little something to thank you for pinch hitting!! <3 I hope you enjoy this piece of Christmas fluff
> 
> Thank you g for beta-reading this!!! <3

Steve has never felt as fucking old as he does right now, sitting in the corner of a raging highschool party hosted by Mike Wheeler. It’s like he’s stuck in a horrible, horrible time line, where everything is kind of like his memories but shifted three degrees to the left and covered in tequila. A _party._ In _Nancy’s_ house.

Sure, Nancy is wandering around with food to make sure the kids aren’t drunk, so it’s obvious nothing much has changed, and all these kids are obviously the… well, the nerds. But there’s still someone vomiting outside in the garden bed, and three people on the patio are attempting a keg stand but lacking the muscle to pull it off gracefully, and Steve has never felt so fucking _old._

“Can I go now?” he asks El, who’s sitting beside him, watching it all with wide, curious eyes.

She shakes her head. “Will wants you here.”

Steve’s eyes drift across the room to land on Will. The odd one out, even in a room full of nerds. Steve’s heart goes out to him, and he sinks willingly back into the couch cushions, suddenly happy to stick it out now he’s reminded of why he’s here.

It isn’t just that Will is so different to the rest of them. Now that he lives in a different state, he’s so removed from the kids he used to know that Steve almost wonders why he’s here at all. Except that where El goes, Will goes, and… really… what else would he do?

Will shifts on his stool, tucked behind the kitchen counter, close to where Nancy has to go to refill her trays. It’s an obvious defensive tactic, just like Steve’s position closest to the front door is obviously a protective tactic. Surprisingly, there’s one other person who seems to be looking out for Will, arms crossed, back straight as he leans in the open doorway to the kitchen and glares at anyone who comes through.

Billy Hargrove is different, ever since that summer two years ago. Quiet in a way that should be off-putting, but the more Steve witnesses it, the more he realizes Billy was kind of always like this. In between the loudness and the aggression and the posturing, Billy was an observer, and it’s only now that he no longer bothers with the rest that Steve notices.

At first, he’d wondered why Billy came, but then he sees how Max keeps checking in on him, with him, and he realizes that it probably makes both of them feel safer, knowing the other is there. Knowing someone has their back. Besides, Steve isn’t complaining. If he and Nancy and Jonathan had to be the only chaperones at this weirdass party, he’d probably die. At least there’s someone else on the outskirts.

A drunk girl with pigtails and glasses stumbles through the doorway and sidles up to Will. Billy narrows his eyes, stance stiffening ever so slightly, and the girl scampers out.

Steve frowns. That was kind of unnecessary.

“I’ll be back,” he mutters to El, ignoring the knowing look on her face because it makes no sense, and walks into the kitchen. He isn’t drunk, has barely even had a drop, because the thought of drinking around these children is a real downer.

Billy turns to Steve as he approaches, glare already fixed on his face, but when he sees who it is, he relaxes.

“Harrington,” he mutters, and it’s almost friendly.

Years ago, after it all happened, Steve had paid for Billy’s Camaro to get fixed, dropping it off at his doorstep one Christmas with a big bow on it and a _sorry for ramming into you_ note stuck under the wiper. He hadn’t quite understood why Billy’s reaction for days after, every time he saw Steve, was to flush and look away, but he put it down to Billy being awkward with presents and didn’t think much of it. Besides, after a week of awkwardness, Billy had approached him and mumbled out a gruff _thanks_ and that was that.

“Hey,” Steve says, turning, deliberately, to look at the girl Billy just frightened. “What was with that?”

“They’re trying it on him.” Billy’s voice is gruff, tinged with anger that is surprisingly rare these days.

Steve glances at Will and shrugs. “So? He might be interested.”

Billy snorts, eyes wide and incredulous. “Trust me, pretty boy. He’s not.”

Steve opens his mouth to argue, but then someone shoves past him, sending him stumbling into the wall, and suddenly the kitchen is full of teenagers yelling. Will is trapped in the corner, gripping the sink so tightly his knuckles turn white, and before Steve can figure out what’s happening, there is a bottle on the kitchen counter and it’s spinning. He nearly laughs, but then he sees the white-faced panic on Will’s face, and he realizes— _fuck_ —Billy was right.

“How did you—” he begins, turning to Billy, but the expression that greets him is so resigned, so exhausted, that Steve doesn’t ask the rest of the question.

Besides, as he takes a cue from Billy, turns back to the rowdy crowd, and just _watches_ , he finds the answer waiting for him. It’s in the way Will’s eyes keep darting to Mike, in the fear and almost repulsion that crosses his face when the girls brush against him. It’s in the sadness in his eyes, and suddenly Steve’s heart isn’t just twisting in empathy, it’s full-on pounding, afraid, unsettled. He needs to get Will out of there before it’s too late, before they—

The bottle lands on Will.

The party yells, excited. Dustin is nowhere to be seen, which infuriates Steve for a few seconds because if anyone would be able to shut down a party game and extract a terrified Will in less than three seconds, it’s Dustin. But he’s on his own, so he clears his throat and starts to say “Hey guys,” but a pimple-faced boy just shoves him in the shoulder and tries to make him start cheering with the rest.

Someone is chanting. The girl who spun the bottle—shy and hopeful—is leaning across the counter, and Steve has never seen Will so scared even with everything he faced.

“Hey, that was pointed at me!” the kid next to Will yells, and the girl diverges, and suddenly the threat has passed.

Steve exhales slowly and shares a look with Billy, equal parts _thank god that’s over_ and _can you believe these shitheads?_

Billy nods silently, eyes fixed on Will, and Steve wonders why he doesn’t just charge in there and get him out. It’s the kind of thing Billy would do. But then he sees the wordless exchange that passes between the two of them, and he realizes that for all his fear, Will is trying… trying to be part of it… trying to be involved, and all Steve’s fear fades away into sadness.

He gets what that’s like. Suddenly, it occurs to him to wonder how Billy knows, and as his eyes slide sideways, and he remembers the note he wrote years ago— _sorry for ramming into you_ —suddenly, a very different meaning and explanation for the flush on Billy’s cheeks pops into his head. Steve spends several minutes choking on his own saliva, helped by a condescending pat on the back from Billy that only makes things worse in several ways, and then tunes back into the game.

It should be easy to ignore, given Steve’s new-found realization and the space it’s taking up in his brain, but suddenly the cheering changes. Takes on an edge. It’s still excited, still urging someone on, but there’s something else beneath it… something cruel… and Steve realizes the bottle is pointing from a boy with glasses to… Will.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes.

The kids are yelling, trying to make the two boys kiss just as much as they’re pulling faces at it. Steve glances at Billy, trying to send some silent signal that they need to get Will out of here _now_ , but the expression on Billy’s face is so murderous, he thinks there’s no way this is going to end without violence. 

But then, Billy clears his throat, laughs so loudly all heads turn his way, and says, “Are you shitbirds really so scared of a little kiss?”

Then he grabs Steve around the waist, pulls him close, and kisses him.

The yelling stops. Someone chokes, incredulous, and then someone else is laughing, and everyone is cheering, because two good-looking jocks have a safety net that a young, nerdy, queer boy doesn’t. And it kills Steve a little, but that pales to how much he realizes he loves this. He wants this. So, he seizes the opportunity, fingers twisting into Billy’s curls and pulling him impossibly closer, hamming it up in a way that looks intentional and dramatic to the audience behind them but is intentional in a very different way to Billy.

His lips part softly, gentle and coaxing, hidden by the curtain of Billy’s hair. As they pull apart, he sees the wide-eyed expression on Billy’s face, the shock and desire mixed in together, and he knows without a doubt that everything is about to change.

When they break away, Will has taken advantage of the distraction to escape, and the party game has moved on to the next willing victim.

They find him out the front, talking softly to El. She beams at them as they approach, and says, “Will wants to go home.”

“Me too, buddy,” Steve says fervently.

“I’ll drive.” Billy’s gruff voice is a comfort, just like the steady warmth of their shoulders pressing together and the brush of their hands.

Steve has an idea. It’s kind of stupid, but fuck it, this whole party is stupid. “Want to play D&D?” he asks, and Will’s face lights up.

“I’ve got a new campaign!” he says excitedly. “And there’s some pre-rolled characters if you don’t want to make them, and—”

Billy shoots Steve a long-suffering look, but Steve knows it’s just a cover. Beneath it, he sees relief, and warmth, and something that sends a tingle through his body all the way to his toes. There’s a promise in Billy’s eyes, and Steve can’t wait to find out what it means. Can’t wait for that first kiss—which still makes Steve’s stomach flip and his heart race whenever he thinks about it—to become nothing more or less than the first, with countless more to follow.

“I want a paladin!” El pipes up, and then the four of them are walking back to Billy’s car, the obnoxious cheering from the party fading behind them.


End file.
